Blog
Dear Students
Most of you know that the last two months have been a new journey for me. My mother-in-law, Linda Kells, moved to Savannah in June after getting a diagnosis of stage 4 cancer. With the help of Hospice Savannah and some amazing private nurses, my husband and I were fortunate to be able to care for her in our home during her last 9 weeks.
I was given a front row set at one of the most amazing times in a person's life. Linda had a clear mind up until the last few days and was able to share so many stories and insights with me during the time we spent together. While this experience will forever change me, it was one of the most challenging times in my life. I have never been a care-giver before - we have no children, and as a busy career woman, I trained Brad early on not to rely on my for meals, errands, etc. I have never had to fix 3 meals a day, administer 25+ doses of medication and bathe another human being. Needless to say, it was a shock to the relaxed lifestyle I had carefully crafted since leaving the corporate world.
My own thoughts and actions during this difficult time were interesting and scary to witness. One of the things that I became acutely aware of was how hard it was for me to listen to my own teaching and advice throughout the experience. As a teacher, I encourage my students to take care of themselves first so that they have the space to care for others. And yet, I did not do enough of that for myself. I tried to keep teaching my classes, while my own practice started to wither away. I even started running again in lieu of getting on my mat. A quick 20 minute run seemed to fit better in my schedule than 90 minutes of yoga and meditation each day. Near the end, I was lucky if I rolled out my mat once a week.
Getting back into my practice is my priority as I head into this next phase of healing. My mat and my foam meditation block are the places where I can tune in and listen to what my inner voice is telling me - something which I may have been too afraid to listen to during the last 9 weeks.
I have decided to take the rest of August off from teaching to regenerate my own practice and focus on the healing process. While I am gone, my classes will stay on the schedule and you will be in good hands with the teachers at the co-op. I will miss the shelter of teaching but look forward to coming back to the classroom in September, reconnected with myself and ready to share my passion for this practice with you.
My meditation teacher, Goenka, has this amazing voice and I hear him in my head every time I start to wander off during my meditation "Start again....." Each moment and each day we have a chance to do that, no matter how long we have been away from our practice. In fact, that is the practice.
With love and gratitude (and some newfound empathy for all you Moms and caregivers out there),
Kate
When I first come to my cushion to meditate my mind is usually busy and all I notice are the coarse sensations in my body. I feel aches and pains in my muscles and joints. I start to think about all of the things I have forgotten to do and want to get up and make a quick to-do list. "Notice the breath, " I tell myself. After about eight breaths, I begin to dream up new projects. "Start again, " I tell myself. I keep going back to feeling my breath, but my mind is not cooperating.
Eventually, if it's a good day, the number of breaths I take increases before my mind wanders off. If I get to a place where my mind starts to focus more fully on the sensations in my body and escape the near constant flow of thoughts, I begin to notice a resonance. I sense an energy in my body that is moving rhythmically. It's as if I can feel the smallest sub-atomic particles that make up my cells vibrating in unison. As I move my attention through my body, noticing the vibration, it gets more or less intense in different spots.
From there, my thoughts don't exactly stop, but they gently bounce back and forth between experiencing the flow of the moment and noticing how cool it is and wanting it to keep going. I can hear my teacher warning me against "playing with sensation", but I find myself experimenting with the vibrations trying to see if I can control the intensity. The more I try, the more I am reminded of the primary teaching of this practice: nothing persists, everything is impermanent. Luckily, the unpleasant sensation in my muscles and joints is just as impermanent as the bliss.
I just got back from Baron Baptiste's Level 2 Teacher Training program in Tulum, Mexico. It was an amazing week of yoga, meditation, inquiry and community.
Each day began with 30 minutes of guided meditation, followed by an in-depth discussion and inquiry into our experience. Baron would start by asking us "what came up" during the meditation and then lead us on a journey of self-discovery and self-awareness as we tried to articulate our insight. Noticing our recurring stories and tendencies to describe the past over and over again, he repeatedly coached us back into the present moment.
At some point during each day we got in a strong 2-3 hour asana practice, but this was not the focus of the training. Everybody at the training was already teaching yoga and had a good handle on the physical practice. That's not to say we weren't challenged, but the week certainly was not about doing lots of yoga asana
For me, Level 2 was about learning how to tap into my own self-cultivation practices, like yoga and meditation, and transform them into practices for serving others. By learning to see myself as I truly am through observation and inquiry, I am more able to step out of the psychological traps that keep me from connecting with others and sharing the human experience.
The practice teaching involves an intense community process that requires the participants to empower and lift each other up AND hold each other accountable when we slip into fear, doubt, or complacency. During the practice teaching, we engage in a process called the Magic Carpet Ride. During this "game" we have an opportunity to see ourselves in each other - through the breakdowns and the victories. While I got some great feedback when I was teaching my Magic Carpet Ride, the feedback the rest of the teachers received during their rides was just as valuable. Being able to see how our defense mechanisms come up and stop us from teaching from a place without pretense, was eye-opening. When each of us was able to step out of our head and teach from "nothing," that is when the real teaching started to happen.
The program is really about learning to empower ourselves and everybody around us so that we can step out of our small self-centered world and see that the secret of happiness comes from serving others without a concern for looking good.
In a few days I will be heading to Jesup, Georgia for my first 10 day silent meditation retreat. I am excited to explore my meditation practice more deeply but I am also a little nervous. I have never sat for more than an hour of meditation at one time, much less 10+ hours in a single day. The closest thing I have done that seems like as much of a mental and physical challenge is to run a marathon...and that only lasted about 5 hours.
Lots of folks have been asking me what the experience will be like - of course I have no idea, but I have read what the Southeast Vipassana Meditation Center's website has to say and talked to some folks who have done this before. You can read all of the details on their website...or check out a brief summary I copied from their site below.
What is Vipassana?
Vipassana is one of India's most ancient meditation techniques. Long lost to humanity, it was rediscovered by Gotama the Buddha more than 2500 years ago. The word Vipassana means seeing things as they really are. It is the process of self- purification by self-observation. One begins by observing the natural breath to concentrate the mind. With a sharpened awareness one proceeds to observe the changing nature of body and mind and experiences the universal truths of impermanence, suffering and egolessness. This truth-realization by direct experience is the process of purification. The entire path (Dhamma) is a universal remedy for universal problems and has nothing to do with any organized religion or sectarianism. For this reason, it can be freely practiced by everyone, at any time, in any place, without conflict due to race, community or religion, and will prove equally beneficial to one and all.
What's a Typical Day Like?
4:00 am Morning wake-up bell
4:30-6:30 am Meditate in the hall or in your room
6:30-8:00 am Breakfast break
8:00-9:00 am Group meditation in the hall
9:00-11:00 am Meditate in the hall or in your room
11:00-12:00 pm Lunch break
12:00-1:00 pm Rest and interviews with the teacher
1:00-2:30 pm Meditate in the hall or in your room
2:30-3:30 pm Group meditation in the hall
3:30-5:00 pm Meditate in the hall or in your own room
5:00-6:00 pm Tea break
6:00-7:00 pm Group meditation in the hall
7:00-8:15 pm Teacher's Discourse in the hall
8:15-9:00 pm Group meditation in the hall
9:00-9:30 pm Question time in the hall
9:30 pm Retire to your own room--Lights out
Can You Practice Yoga During the Retreat?
Although physical yoga and other exercises are compatible with Vipassana, they should be suspended during the course because proper secluded facilities are not available at the course site. Jogging is also not permitted. Students may exercise during rest periods by walking in the designated areas.
Aloha from Hawaii. I am on the Big Island at yet another Teacher Training boot camp with Baron Baptiste. I came to be a part of his B.A.D.A.S.S. program - which was billed as a course on the mastery of teaching. What could be better than 8 days in Hawaii doing what I love and learning how to be even better at it?
What does it mean to be BADASS yoga teacher? My definition is pretty simple - a BADASS teacher leaves me feeling a palpable sense of joy when the class is over. Even if the class was physically intense, I feel light and energized. I feel inspired. I feel like the whole world is beautiful.
So..what's the secret? The answer is pretty simple - it's about teaching from love and passion and conviction. It's about sharing what I have found in my yoga practice with my students. It's about rising above the mundane and showing up every time ready to share the love.
In more practical terms it's about managing the energy in the room and taking the students on a journey into love. What I dig about the Baptiste system is that we have a sequence that forms a framework from which to teach. There are 11 series of poses in the sequence from which we can draw as we move the students through the practice. Each series affects the nervous system in a different way, moving us from the outer world to our inner world. The sequence dials you into that place where you can get out of your head and into your body. From there, a connection to our greater Self can happen.
The BADASS training consists of teaching to our peers and receiving live feedback about how our teaching is landing. Fellow teachers shout out to us as we teach part of the sequence: "Louder!" "Sounds scripted." "Stop pacing." "This is boring."
Based on this live feedback we are expected to change course and bring the class back to a happy place. The program leaders as well as our peers give us feedback afterward as well, coaching us on what was missing from our teaching. The feedback that hurts the most and goes right to the core of our being is usually the stuff we really need to hear. For me, the feedback that landed (and hurt) the most was that I sounded mean. There was a lot of background noise because there were three groups of us teaching in the same space. In an effort to increase the volume, I basically started yelling at my students. At least that's how it sounded to them. What this really gets at is a hardness in my teaching. I have been coached before that I can come across as a drill sergeant. And I know it's true. I can step back and see myself calling out poses one after the other, without also showing the love. This practice is intense and it does demand a lot of us, but there is a difference between pushing the students and making them feel small and pushing them and making them feel powerful. I guess that is the art of teaching and coaching, and that is one of my challenges.
The other feedback I have received pretty consistently since I started teaching this style of yoga is that my voice needs work. I tend to teach from my throat rather than my belly. When the volume goes up, the net result is a sound that attacks the nervous system and sets people on edge. I have talked about taking voice lessons for a few months and am now committed to finding a voice coach and really working on this.All of the teaching we do to our class of peers culminates in THE BIG MOMENT - when we put on a Madonna-style microphone and teach part of the series to the whole Bootcamp - while Baron coaches us.
Wednesday night I got my chance at being a BADASS. I was assigned the back-bending series. Great, I thought, this is a fun place to really manage the energy and inspire students. To me, back-bending is the culmination of the whole practice. It's the point at which we really have an opportunity to tap into who we are being and see our true colors. The irony is that on many days I dread this part of the practice. On those days I know I am just looking for my practice to make me feel "good" but I am not striving for GREAT. It's like a little mirror, showing me that I am not aspiring to anything bigger than what I have already. Showing me that I am complacent. As a teacher, its my job to pull my students out of that trap and reach for something bigger.
As I waited in the wings, mic'ed up and ready to go, I felt a surprising ease. I have been teaching this sequence for a year now, There was no additional preparation I could have done to get ready. I was, after all, looking for authentic feedback on who I am being right now as a teacher.
As I stepped on to the floor I took a deep breath in and looked at the sea of downward dogs in front of me. If the students were feeling what I was feeling, they were tired and lit up, all at the same time. Four days of asana and self-inquiry had left most of us pretty raw. I took them to high plank and started to hold them there for a count of five and immediately the groans started coming. Low plank for 5,4,3,2,1. High plank for 4,3,2,1. Low plank for 4,3,2,1. My inner drill sergeant was coming out. Argh. Baron started coaching me to speak to their higher selves - or something like that. A lot of what happened during the time I was teaching is a blur.
I remember releasing the students to their bellies and trying to soften the tone by asking the students open their eyes and look at each. Baron wanted none of that - "Don't let them rest - they'll get comfortable here! Take them right into the next pose." I moved the class through 2 Locust poses and then had them press back into Child's pose before setting up Camel. Oops. No forward bends between the back-bends, Baron coached me. He also started coaching me to take up the space with my voice, "Make it bigger, fill the room."
When I took them into their first Camel, I felt like I had finally showed up and was teaching from my center. I was able to set up the pose from the foundation and then speak to why we practice yoga - to open our hearts and FEEL. I think the room started responding by cheering, but I was in the groove and do not remember the details. I do remember that when we got to wheel pose, I was afraid I'd see half the class in bridge, exhausted and opting out. To my surprise, as I looked around there were only a handful of people in bridge. Over 90% of the class took their final Wheel and held it until they were released to their backs. Wow! And then it was over.
As I left the floor, Baron's final words to me were "I see Expanding for you. Expanding it. That's the next step."
